Armageddon Rides to Town
by Pollardinator
Summary: Sequel to London's Burning -After surviving the chaos of the initial undead outbreak, Chris and his band must now enter the battlefield of London,where soldiers of the Westminster Safe Zone battle the army of the self proclaimed 'King of London'. As battle lines are drawn and enemies both living and dead arise,can the survivors not only live,but also keep their humanity?
1. Chapter 1- Road to London

The next morning, as smoke still rose lazily up from the city beyond; Mark awoke and staggered to his feet. Blinking away the dark spots in his eyes and gagging at a foul taste in his mouth he clumsily threw on his jeans and the heavy black overcoat he had found last night in an abandoned Land Rover and had been using as a pillow.

Grabbing his pistol and holster from the table next to him and stepping carefully past the sleeping forms of Chris and Gage and past the pile of supplies they had made by the door he tiptoed out and into the main area.

"Sleep well?" he heard a voice say and turned to see Aafia sat behind the counter amongst the ransacked shelves, absently looking over Marvalo's double barrelled shotgun, two shells lined up in front of her ready for use.

"Like a log…" he replied with a grin and stretched, his hand instinctively going to his bandaged right side where a bullet had grazed it during the flight from the crazed games of Miss Marvalo and her gang.

"Is that…?" Aafia began, looking with concern at the shape of the bandages under his shirt but Mark only grinned.

"Fine." He said simply. "I changed the bandage whilst I was on watch last night and its fine. Bullet just grazed it. Have you seen any of the others?"

Aafia smiled.

"Jacobs on the roof at the moment watching the road." She explained. "Said that he thought he saw some movement on one of the buildings on the outskirts last night and we should check it out maybe. Could be some survivors or something… As for Eliza and Lexi, I don't know really and whatever they're doing they kept it quiet." She added with a slightly cold tone to her voice.

"Have you seen Michael?" Mark asked, his fists clenching a t the thought of the man who had almost killed his best friend last night.

"Just outside watching the road." Aafia said, and then called after him as he turned toward the door. "Look…just don't do anything stupid. He was just stressed last night that's all…"

"Stressed! That guy almost throttled Chris!"

Aafia sighed.

"He's had some bad experiences since this whole thing went down Mark. Worse than all of us I've heard." she added. "Just remember that before you do anything rash."

Mark nodded as he stepped outside and closed the door, Aafia returning to checking her weapon as he breathed in the cool morning air. The sky beyond was overcast to the north but with glimpses of blue beyond, whilst the air was warm but with a hint of smoke in it, drifting in from London beyond.

He saw Michael across the forecourt, past silent petrol pumps and cars, sat on the bonnet of a crumpled sports car, swigging from a water bottle and starring out at the fields across the empty highway.

"Enjoying the view?" Mark said, and instantly Michael's head snapped around, his face pale.

"Look man…" he stammered. "I'm so ashamed at what I did. If I could…"

Mark shook his head with a smile.

"It's over." He said firmly. "You're not the first person to use Chris as a punching bag when things are rough…" he added with a grin as he sat down next to the young preacher. "Seen anything of interest?"

Michael shrugged.

"Nothing much. There were a few walkers a while back but Jacob got them before they made it too far. Besides that just a few stray sheep wandering across and there was a helicopter about an hour ago. We tried to signal it but either the pilot couldn't see us or didn't care." He said with a frown. "It flew back towards London after circling for a bit."

"That's good!" Mark said with a grin. "If the military or whoevers sent that helicopter are in London that must mean there's a safe zone or something! The fact they have aircraft is even better! I bet the army are already clearing up whatever undead are left in the city and should be here within the week. I mean, how are walkers going to take out tanks and attack choppers?"

Michael looked down at his feet solemnly, tapping his leg with the steel machete in his right hand.

"Those never helped back in Haven."

"Haven?"

"The village I was assigned to preach in back at the start of this nightmare." Michael explained simply, sighing softly.

Mark nodded as the preacher continued.

"There were only about a hundred or so people in the village." He explained, staring blankly ahead. "We could have been safe really. There was a river running around three quarters of the village and the rest was empty fields we could have, I don't know, built a wall on or something. Lord knows how well we might have done for ourselves until well, the military arrived. When I heard the military were coming I expected maybe a squad or so, just to help us fortify the place. We got a while friggin army!"

Michael's expression darkened.

"You would have thought having a thousand soldiers and an entire army base in and around the village would have done it good. Absolutely not! They were sending out troops every day on 'seek and destroy' missions. You would see low flying warplanes and helicopters over the fields laying waste to the landscape whilst they sent whole platoons worth of soldiers and vehicles everywhere…"

He shook his head.

"Soon they had attracted what felt like every walker in the south of England. Probably a lot came from whatever was left after Southampton was carpet bombed. All I know is I heard explosions and gunfire for a whole night and then, in the morning, nothing. I remember the street outside the church was empty. It was creepy almost, people just staggering out onto the main street looking scared and confused as rabbits. The army camp on the village green was empty, and no one knew where they had gone. All I know is, wherever they had gone, they weren't coming back. I got everyone into the village church, figured it was the safest place at the time. I remember praying so much, asking God to spare us from whatever cruel fate had befallen the military. Then I climbed the church tower and looked out over the countryside."

He was looking directly ahead now, tears forming in his eyes.

"That's when my hope died."

The first tear fell, hitting the grey tarmac silently as he continued.

"I saw the fields beyond me laid out like a sick tapestry of death and decay. All across the farmland were the remains of the military. Abandoned tanks and armoured vehicles just sat there like statues, the horses the army had taken from the old Giles Farm to get their artillery in position lay dead around those same guns they had dragged out there the day before. Smoke was rising above them, just tiny little clouds, the remains of walkers the army had been roasting with flamethrowers and incendiaries. There were a few helicopters as well, lying on their sides or painted with blood and gore and still sat by crushed tents and ammo dumps. But the worst bit was the bodies. So many of them. Soldiers and civilians alike, all in various states of decomposition. And all of them moving."

By now the tears were flowing freely and Michael looked Mark straight in the eye.

"They were coming. So many of them. Must have been hundreds, if not thousands even, moving across the fields and around the remains of the army's last stand in one unbroken horde."

He took a deep breath, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"Do you know what I did? Do you know what I did as I saw that tide of undead?"

Michael looked down at his feet, shaking and sobbing.

"I ran."

The preacher put his head in his hands.

"I just ran out of that church. Didn't say where I was going or what was going to happen to all those people, mothers and fathers, children and babies. I remember just turning to old Mr Holt, the local policeman, standing by the door with a grin on his face, as if to say everything was going to be alright… I just turned to him as I opened the door, said I would be 'back in a minute' then left."

"What did you do?" Mark asked softly.

"I closed that door and just sprinted away. I heard the screams a few minutes later."

Mark looked away, feeling a slight sense of shame at how, only a minute or so ago, he had been ready to beat this man to a pulp and yet now, he only felt a great sense of sorrow and compassion towards him. He had seen, and experienced, so many horrors compared to the rest of them.

"Look…" Mark began, turning to face the sobbing preacher. "I understand what you've…"

He never got a chance to say anymore as Michael suddenly lunged forward and pushed him away, sending him sprawling.

"Motherfucker!" he roared, hand reaching for his pistol as he began to pick himself up.

Then he looked up and saw Michael smile at him, a genuine one filled with warmth and yet with a tinge of sadness. Then the crack of a rifle echoed across the forecourt, and Michael was struck in the chest and rolled off the car with a burst of crimson.

"Oh shit." Mark said softly and drew his gun, rolling into cover behind a parked car, sweating and breathing heavily.

"Another shot whined overhead and Mark peeked out from behind his hiding place to see a figure in body armour and a bandana aiming an old rifle, fumbling with the bolt and cursing.

Then there was a brief thud of gunfire from above and the man fell back with a whine, a bullet between his eyes.

That's when he heard Jacob's voice overhead and another quick burst of fire.

"Get inside boys! I'll keep their heads down!"

Keeping low as a bullet whizzed past and catching sight of shadowy figures crouched behind the cars on the motorway, Mark rolled to where Michael lay in a pool of blood.

"Shit man I'm gonna have to get you inside." Mark stammered, retching slightly at the gaping wound in the preacher's chest. "Why the fuck did you..?"

"Saw the guy in the bushes." Michael said before coughing up a wad of blood. "Couldn't let you get shot down by some thug."

Mark's eyes widened as the truth of the man's sacrifice was revealed.

"John 15:13." Michael spluttered. "Greater love hath no man than…"

"…to lay down his life for his friends." Mark finished, breathing heavily. "We can…"

"No need." Michael said with a grim smile. "I've got this one. Pass me your gun." He said firmly.

Mark turned his head as he handed Michael the heavy pistol, turning away with a grimace.

When the single gunshot rang out Mark, averting his eyes from what remained of the preacher, grabbed his gun and sprinted across the tarmac, crashing through the door and into the dingy shop, earning a look of surprise from Aafia, before she fired off a blast from her shotgun outside, then slammed another two shells into her gun.

"Get the others!" she shouted. "We need to get out of here!"

Mark nodded and barrelled into the next room, finding Eliza and Lexi waiting, both with weapons drawn.

"We need to move." He said simply and started grabbing their bags from the pile, along with his crossbow and the meat cleaver he had picked up from Stan's house. "Grab the stuff and make for the cars. The other should be with us…"

He was cut off by a burst of automatic gunfire by the back door, and he watched with horror as the flimsy metal door, covered in new bullet holes, was kicked in and a figure ran in, clutching a sub machine gun.

Instantly knowing the balaclava clad thug was no friend Mark fired off a shot isnticntively, caving in the man's head.

As he stared at the corpse, his mind full of doubts about his first murder, another figure ran in, this one firing off a long rattle of gunfire across the room, firing from the shoulder as the three survivors dived for cover.

When the gun smoke cleared Mark slowly stood up and watched, in horror, as he saw Eliza standing, her gun gone and her fists clenched, face to face with…

"Sunil Singh." He heard her say softly, the fury in her voice obvious as she lunged for him.

"Oh what a surprise. But I would save any heroism you have planned." Sunil, a grin on his face, said softly as he drew a heavy chrome Desert Eagle pistol from his coat, throwing his empty AK aside and aiming his gun in a steady hand. "Unless you want a round in your head like your girlfriend got…"

"Stay the fuck away from her!" Mark heard a voice say, and Chris suddenly came running in, pistol in hand.

"Hold up there." Sunil laughed, grinning widely. "You're her brother I guess?"

Chris was breathing heavily with rage, the rattle of gunfire from outside providing a strange soundtrack to the tense standoff as Mark quickly drew his own weapon.

"Back off Singh." He said cooly, crossbow aimed at the man's heart.

"Nice bow William Tell." The gangster said with a laugh. "But soon as the rest of my boys get here…" he added, curling his left hand into the shape of a gun and mouthing the word 'bang' at each of the assembled survivors, then laughing again.

For a second there was silence, then a figure burst through the back door, knife raised and leapt at the gangster.

Instantly Sunil turned and fired off a shot before dodging his attacker's blade and drawing a machete from a holster inside his overcoat and swinging it in mad arcs at his assailant.

"Shit that's Gage." Lexi said simply as they looked on, dumbfounded.

It was indeed the Gurkha, but gone was the genial old man they knew, replaced by a whirling beserker, swinging his kukri, face a mask of rage.

Even Sunil seemed surprised and stepped back, his blade meeting the old soldier's kukri with a clash of steel.

With a contemptuous flourish of his knife, Gage easily knocked aside the gangster's machete and held the knife to his throat.

"Get out." He said simply, hurling the man into the wall and standing over him, kukri clenched in hand.

Sunil staggered to his feet, eyes ablaze as he grabbed his AK and sprinted from the room.

"Why did you let him go?" Chris said through clenched teeth, ready to sprint off after the fleeing gangster.

"Because I didn't want to become the same monster he has." The old soldier said simply. "Now grab what you can and run."

* * *

Mark literally fell into the front seat of Alafia's police car, its new owner raising an eyebrow before starting the engine.

On the back seat Jacob sat, rifle at the ready, gripping the weapon tightly.

"Go!" he said simply and Aafia brought it around in a tight circle and screaming out of the petrol station and down the motorway, ramming over a walker crawling across the bloodstained tarmac.

"Others are right behind us." Jacob said simply.

"Who the hell were those guys?" Aafia said with a concerned tone to her voice.

"Some pyscho we met in London a while back and his thugs." Mark said simply. "Gage let him go."

Aafia looked about to ask the same question Mark had been asking himself since they escaped, but was cut off by Jacob shouting from the back.

"They're behind us!"

"Shit." Aafia said softly as she checked her mirror, noticing a green armoured vehicle thundering in pursuit of the two cars.

Pressing the accelerator to the floor she sent the car speeding up the motorway, the trees and fields either side melding into a blur of green.

"You know we can't exactly fight that thing?" Mark said, checking his crossbow as the armoured car's horn blared out.

Aafia sighed.

He looked down at his feet, expecting nothing less from their pursuers than a quick bullet to the face, or worse, to be left for dead and rise as another walker to join the ranks of the undead.

Then he heard the clatter of helicopter blades overheard, and remembered his words from before.

"Shit." He said with a grin. "Michael was right."

From above there was a burst of heavy machine gun fire and he saw the armoured vehicle breaking away and retreating, whilsut the others were whooping and hollering.

Then the radio crackled into life.

"This is Night Watch." Came the voice of the helicopter pilot. "Feel free to thank us later. Proceed on to George Gate on the M4 motorway for entry to the Westminster Safe Zone. Oh and welcome to London."

Five minutes later and the small convoy was powering along the devastated from of the M4,skirting burnt out cars and craters, the city below them an empty shell filled with abandoned cars and debris.

Looking up ahead Mark saw the tall form of a high wall built from heavy concrete blocks and fortified with barbed wire, two watchtowers sat either side with grim faced soldiers standing at the ready and watching the city beyond. Between the towers was a steel gate, five metres high, warning signs and notices plastered across its metal form. And before it lay a pile of dead walkers, pushed into two stacks and blackened by fire, two soldiers with flamethrowers letting forth a torrent of flame onto the cadavers.

As they drove toward the checkpoint Mark saw a green 'Welcome to London' sign, covered in bloody handprint,whilist a crimson line had been drawn through the city name and replaced so it now read the morbid phrase 'Welcome to Hell."

"Well this looks promising." Jacob said from the back, slightly unsure as he reloaded his rifle.

Any other comments were silenced as they stopped at the barricade and were ordered to step out of the vehicle.

"Warm welcome isn't it?" Mark said as he stepped out,hands on his head,the gas masked soldiers on the wall above aiming down at them.

"Open it up boys I'm not seeing any bites!" called a burly sergeant from one of the towers,staring down a rifle scope at the small band.

As the gate slid open and they drove on Mark looked outside at the small army camp on both sides. The soldiers here were grim faced and hard, clutching their weapons close as they closed the gates behind them, a few hefting heavy crates between the small settlement of tents and prefab buildings that had been dragged up here, whilst long spools of barbed wire coated the barriers at the edge of the road, over which snipers glanced with high powered rifles.

"Bit of a lax policy to bites?" Jacob muttered as they exited the camp through another armoured gate ,a lone armoured car sat by the gate moving aside for the ragtag convoy.

"Well they seem safe enough here." Aafia observed. "Maybe things aren't as bad as Chris thought they would be.

"Doubt it." Jacob said bitterly as they drove on, passing a few walkers who stumbled toward them before accurate shots from the gate behind pierced their skulls.

"Any better ideas?" Mark asked, slightly angrier than he meant to.

Jacob shook his head sullenly as they drove on through the empty streets.

"Wait there's something up ahead." Aafia said, nodding up the road.

"Ah shit another checkpoint." Mark muttered as they stopped at the crude wall of police riot vans and barbed wire.

And yet the only occupant was a lone female soldier, sat atop one of the vans, her helmet and mask next to her, absently holding her rifle and running a finger through her short brown hair, done up in a tight bun.

Stepping out the car Mark walked towards the barrier and the soldier stood spreading her arms wide in mock greeting.

"Private Jessica Parr." She stated simply. "Welcome to hell."


	2. Chapter 2- Rise of a Tyrant Part 1

**(One day before the outbreak)**

Raj awoke with a groan, his eyes glancing at his watch on the nightstand next to him. Eleven o'clock.

"Shit." He said softly as he threw off the covers and practically fell out of bed, throwing on a shirt and pair of slightly faded jeans absently before stumbling into the bathroom.

"Glad it's my day off." He mused to himself as he checked his reflection in the mirror. Staring back at him was an unfamiliar face, one much paler and more careworn than it had been only a week ago, his once bright brown eyes now dulled by lack of sleep and stress.

"Have to blame my brother for that." He said with a grim smirk, wincing at the way his skin seemed to sag on his face. "I look like a freaking corpse…" he added as he ran a hand over his chin, feeling a slight hint of stubble over his young, but now looking prematurely aged, features. He looked at least thirty, he thought, over ten years older than he actually was, while he remained as thin as ever. Grabbing his thin framed glasses from his bedroom he walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, where his brother sat ,feet up and reading a copy of the Daily Mail, the headline 'Urban Chaos' looming in stark black letters on the front page.

"Morning Sunil." He said amicably but his brother ignored him, lowering his paper slightly at Raj's voice but otherwise being totally indifferent to the other man as he poured himself some tea from the old kettle ,still bearing the dents from when Sunil had hurled it against the wall a few days ago.

As he sat down across from his brother Raj glanced at Sunil. The man couldn't have looked any different, despite the fact they were twins. Where Raj was skinny and wiry Sunil was large and imposing, his large shoulders and muscular arms clearly visible emerging from the sleeveless white tank top he wore, whilist his eyes were grey and emotionless as he read the paper. Sunil had only supposed to be lodging for a few days but, with their father no longer around to keep his son in line, Sunil was pretty much master of the house, able to make Raj do anything with nothing but a casual threat or cold stare.

"What the fuck you looking at little brother?" Sunil rasped, grey eyes staring firmly at Raj from over the paper. "Shouldn't you be out at work or some bullshit?"

Raj smiled innocently, ignoring his brother's veiled threat. Sunil had recently taken to using any opportunity to assert his superiority over his brother, despite the fact he was barely a few minutes older.

"The office is shut for the week after some thug put a petrol bomb through the window during the riots last night." He explained and Sunil only snorted derisively.

"Stupid punks." He said simply. "What I wouldn't give to…"

"So, er, is the City closed today or something?" Raj asked innocently, earning an icy stare from his brother. Sunil didn't look the type but, during one of his rare moments of kindness towards Raj, had taken him to his workplace, the frenzied market that was the London financial markets of the City, a far cry from Raj's own job in a small office near his house in the East End. Out on that trading floor Sunil was like the King of all London, effortlessly buying and selling stocks and shares no matter the cost, willing to literally beat rival traders away and still make a huge profit. Raj didn't know how he did it, but beneath his thuggish exterior Sunil was a calm and cold strategist, moving his investments around like pieces on a chessboard. The man was already a multi-millionaire but, after some trouble with Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs, was stuck lodging with his younger brother until he could reclaim his repossessed properties, sports cars and luxuries.

"Far from it." Sunil said with a grin. "But why should I be out on that trading floor busting my arse when I know it's all just going back to those government arsewipes?"

Raj shrugged.

"Besides." Sunil added with another, more sinister, smile. "I'm having too much fun here every night to care about work."

Raj felt his skin crawl but tried to keep a straight face. If there was one thing he knew about his brother was nothing made him more annoyed than people he saw as cowards.

"You mean you were out on the streets…"

"Living it up my brother!" Sunil said with a laugh, eagerly thrusting the front page of the Daily Mail at him.

Raj took the paper from him where, underneath the bold headline, a large image from last night showed, in stark detail, a London street turned into a warzone, where, as riot police and young men in hoodies and bandanas battled in the background, a single figure in a red bandana stood over a fallen police officer, midway through beating him with a heavy iron pipe.

"You…" he began and Sunil nodded and laughed again, the sound seeming unnatural and forced as he spoke in a voice as calm and level as if he had been describing a trip to the supermarket.

"Damn right. Stupid pig's armour didn't save him from a good old fashioned beating. Threw him in the gutter when the pipe got all cracked and bent. He looked over at his brother, whose face had turned almost white. "Don't worry, he'll be fine. He was howling all the while as some paramedics hauled him off. I was just blowing off steam, you know?"

"What would Dad think?" Raj answered coldly.

"Dad's dead Raj, remember?" Sunil answered simply "He should have remembered the racist officers around here didn't like the idea of immigrants becoming cops before they ran him over in their squad car. Mum was right to leave him before all that and run off to India with that plumber. He was a nobody ,Raj, and he died a…"

"Stop it!" Raj said suddenly, standing up for a second, arms planted firmly on the table as he stared at his brother with eyes blazing with anger.

He was on the floor in seconds.

Sunil stood over him, a smile crossing his face, but rubbing his knuckles at the same time. Raj didn't cry out, despite the pain raging all over him. If he gave his brother any sort of weakness to exploit he would take it. As his brother turned away and sat back down as if nothing had happened, Raj slowly, and painfully, extracted himself from the floor.

"Why don't you go get yourself a paper or something?" Sunil asked casually. "Who knows, maybe one day you could make the front page too…"

It wasn't a request.

Raj straightened up as he opened the front door, still feeling pain in his chest from where Sunil's punch had connected, but breathing slowly and deeply as he stepped outside, glancing back to see Sunil give him a cheery wave before he slammed the door shut behind him.

Feeling his fists clenching Raj took a deep breath and stepped onto the pavement outside. He was not an angry person, not by any stretch of the imagination, but sometimes his brother could really piss him off. Every time though, he forgave him and forgot about it.

As he walked along the quiet residential street, the London skyline towering overhead in the distance along with the standard background sirens and traffic of the city, Raj looked around. Even here, where the riots were nothing more than noises at night from a few streets over, there were still signs of the violence that had gripped this area for the past few days. As he turned onto the next street two police riot vans roared past, sirens blaring, probably off to deal with some trouble still brewing from the night before, while a few scattered broken bottles and lengths of 2x4 lay in the gutter by a smashed shop window, the elderly Eastern European shopkeeper humming an old Soviet anthem as he swept the glass up, giving Raj a polite nod as he walked past. Two teenagers in tracksuits shoved Raj into the road as they strolled past.

"Enjoying the scenery you fucking Paki?" the larger of the two said with a laugh, brushing his lurid red jacket as his mates clapped him on the back and swaggered off.

Raj sighed. Sometimes he just wanted to lash out at those people, beat them to a pulp like Sunil did but, as always, he kept those thoughts to himself.

He froze when he felt a hand rest firmly on his shoulder and whirled around, eyes wide, to be confronted by a burly police officer in riot gear, visor down and balaclava over his face.

"Holy…" he began, but instantly relaxed when the figure lifted their visor and balaclava to reveal a slightly wrinkled, dark skinned face, grinning.

"Sorry about that Raj." The officer said, the only response a sigh of relief.

"Shit Mr Sharma!" Raj said with a nervous laugh. "Almost…"

Mr Sharma only laughed, the image completely at odds with the heavy riot armour, shield and baton he held.

"Your father would have been in hysterics…" he said with a grin, but then the smile died when he saw Raj laugh then double over, only slightly but enough for the veteran officer to see there was something wrong. "Wait, what's up with you?"

Raj smiled innocently.

"I just,er, took a bad fall…"

"This was fucking Sunil wasn't it?" the officer said simply. It hadn't been a question and Raj found himself nodding. For a second he considered telling Mr Sharma exactly what Sunil had done, feel the satisfaction of watching the pyscho get dragged out into the street by a load of police officers and hurled in the back of a van, awaiting charges for almost murdering a police officer.

"Look." Mr Sharma said in a low voice. "I know he's gone off the rails after your father died, and I respect his memory enough to not just go around there and beat the shit out of your pyscho of a brother but…just say something and ,well, me and some of the guys from the station could, you know, go around where he's holed up, teach him not to lay a hand on my best mate's only decent son."

Raj considered it for a second, but shook his head.

"Look, Sunil may look like he's just beyond redemption but I know that, underneath that thuggish facade, he's still the same good guy he was before Dad died. It's just, when those corrupt cops went and…you know, he kind of snapped. Now he just hates all authority of any sort, sees himself as this great leader in the making." He sighed. "I just think back to when we were kids playing cops and robbers out in the garden…"

"Let me guess, he was always the criminal?" the officer replied with a frown but Raj laughed softly.

"You know, he was actually always the cop. Said he wanted to do exactly what Dad did."

He smiled at the memory and turned to go.

"Look, I'm going to trust you on this." Mr Sharma said firmly. "But this was a chance to take Sunil down once and for all, remember that when he beats you senseless again… Anyway, watch yourself out there. I think these riots are only the start…" he added darkly.


	3. Chapter 3- Welcome to Hell

The devastated street spread out before them as the two cars stopped at the base of the checkpoint and the soldier, Jessica Parr, clambered down, one hand on her rifle as Chris and Jacob stepped forward, hands at their sides but their weapons within easy reach.

"We need to get through." Jacob said simply, noticing the soldier in front of them glance at the L85 rifle in his hand, exactly the same as her own.

"I could let you through…" Jessica began, smiling slightly as she checked her brown hair with her free hand. "But I would have to get clearance from the corporal.

"Take us to him then." Jacob replied, a frown on his face.

Chris winced slightly at the police officer's brisk manner, but the soldier only smiled grimly as she led the two of them through a small gap in the blockade of trashed police vans, just wide enough for a man but probably too narrow for a walker to stumble through. Behind them Chris noticed Mark and the others moving to cover the streets, Aafia and Gage sat on the roofs of their respective vehicles with guns in hand.

"Might be a bit hard." Jessica said with a frown as they emerged on the other side, an empty street filled only with the gently rolling forms of crumpled newspapers and litter, and led them toward a green army tent marked with a red cross. As they stepped into the tent Chris could easily see why, whilitst trying to hold down the vomit threatening to rise in his throat.

The tent floor was stained with splashes of deep crimson, whilst most of the space was taken up by at least half a dozen bodies laid out and covered with white sheets, each with an identical bullet hole where their forehead would be, stained with dark blood.

"That's the corporal there." Jessica explained, pointing at the body on the far end. "Walker in the back of a refugee's car tore off his finger when he opened the boot."

"How did the rest die?" Chris said softly. He had always thought that the military would be able to stop this, but now…

"Shot by looters." Jessica said, pointing to the corpse next to the corporal's, then moving down the line and pointing to each one in turn. "Bitten by infected refugee. Bitten by the soldier next to him when he turned. Got a chunk of his leg torn off while checking the local police station for survivors. And strung up by bandits last night…" she finished at the end of the line.

"You shot them all in the head?"

"Of course. Should have done it from the start and Private Martins might have made it." She added her other hand hovering over her holstered pistol. "So now I'm the only bastion of military strength in about a mile square area…"

"Where's everyone else?" Jacob asked as he tried to ignore the stench of the bodies. "Killed by those bombers last night?

Jessica laughed softly.

"Oh no. Those RAF boys barely scratched the surface before they all ran out of fuel and bombs. They were just trying to take out the most infested areas. They didn't succeed." She added darkly.

"So where is everyone?" Jacob asked again. "I find it hard to believe the British Army fell in just a few days."

Jessica only shook her head.

"You would be surprised. Everyone who isn't dead or crazy is up at the Westminster Safe Zone around the Houses of Parliament. Anyway, before we go any further can we get some air?"

The three of them moved out into the sun again as Chris asked.

"Who's everyone then?"

"The Prime Minister. What's left of the government and military. Loads of police and emergency services. And what feels like about a tenth of the London population."

Chris felt a smile come to his face for the first time in what felt like years.

"So we can go there? Is it safe?"

Jessica smirked.

"Until the walkers work out how to climb a twenty metre high concrete and steel wall it's safe. Getting there's the problem."

To illustrate her point she beckoned them towards a green map table, pulling a crumpled Ordinance Survey map of London from her pocket and laying it out.

"We're here." She said ,pointing out a tiny back road near the elevated portion of the M4 motorway they had just been on, here and there small black squares representing checkpoints were dotted about. "And the safe zone is here." As she said this Jessica pointed to a large swathe of land on the banks of the Thames, surrounded by a thick line of red and composed of a few square miles of the city, including the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey and a tangle of various government and business buildings.

"It's not that far." Jacob said with a smile, but Jessica only sighed.

"It isn't that easy."

To prove her point she took a red marker pen from her pocket and started shading in large swathes of land on the map.

"These areas are all infested with walkers." She explained. "We had to pull out of pretty much all these places, and reports are coming in all the time of other areas turning red, if you know what I mean. Add to that the fact that the entire East End is steadily falling to armed gangs and bandits and you've got a pretty shitty situation."

As Chris and Jacob's eyes widened at the sheer number of red areas on the map, covering almost all of South and North London, Jessica produced a black pen and began drawing a series of lines across the city, all leading to the form of the safe zone in the north.

"These are all the routes to the safe zone. Their all guarded and patrolled by our forces, as much as we can. Unfortunately for you…" she added with a slight laugh. "We're not on one of those routes." And she gestured to the map, pointing out their location, at least two miles from the nearest of the safe routes.

"We can still get there though?" Jacob asked with a frown, and the soldier nodded.

"Yes, on one condition."

Chris raised an eyebrow as Jessica reached under the table for a large green kitbag and set it next to her.

"I'm coming with you."

Jacob gave Chris a confused look but the former computer repairman only nodded slowly as the police officer sidestepped back through the barricade.

"Of course."

Jessica smiled.

"Good, because I can get you through any checkpoints a lot quicker and easier than you could on your own, plus this place kind of stinks since my squad all died…"

Chris nodded.

"Got any weapons or ammunition to spare?" he asked. "Because we're running low at the moment."

The soldier shook her head.

"Sorry. I had a load only yesterday but a gang of looters attacked last night and, while I was fending off three of them, the other two came up behind, killed my last squad mate and stole all the guns, ammunition and the Land Rover. All I have left is what I have on me…"

"No matter." Jacob said as he reappeared through the gap in the police vans. "Let's just get this barricade shifted and be on our way. Eliza says she heard walkers a few streets away coming in our direction."

* * *

It took the entire group, and about half an hour, to shift two of the trashed police vans aside to clear the road, and by then Eliza, who had been on over watch with Gage's rifle atop a nearby building, had been shouting down about a group of at least twenty walkers stumbling straight towards them.

Now Chris was sat on the roof of the Land Rover with Jessica, Jacob's L85 in his hand as the vehicle below them slowly powered through the empty streets beyond the barricade.

"So you were here in London the whole time then?"

"Unfortunately." Jessica replied with a frown as she checked her rifle, glancing at the scattered corpses in the street around them. "Where did you say you were from?"

"I didn't." Chris said simply. "We're from here originally, but we all thought Southampton would be a good place to go and try and evacuate from. We thought other countries might be doing better."

"I've heard that, if anything, we're the lucky ones in terms of the world. Command says the rest of Europe has already started using missiles against population centres and Africa is turning into a wasteland."

"Anything from America?"

"I hear their probably the worst off so far. They've taken our idea and are building safe zones in major cities but it's just too late for them. Between crazed militia types and overpopulated safe zones, that country is just falling apart."

Chris sighed.

"Do you know what's happening to the rest of the UK?"

Jessica nodded slowly.

"Yeah some of the boys were talking about it over the radio last night. Manchester's managed to hold on so far but the other large cities like Leeds and Bristol have all gone the same way as Southampton. Someone was saying Cardiff got nuked…" she added darkly.

"And how's London been in the past few days?" Chris asked as they passed a burnt out police station, a few shadows stumbling around in its front lobby beginning to move after them as Gage sped up slightly.

"A hellhole." She said simply. "After the total shitstorm that was what command are calling 'the Battle of Hyde Park' or some bullshit, we, that is, the British Army, have been fighting all over. In the streets, along the banks of the Thames, through every back road, cul de sac and park across this city. And every time we fight, we lose. Not just men and land but vehicles and equipment too. Do you know how many people it takes to drive a Challenger Mark 2 battle tank? Four. And do you know how many people are needed to keep that thing running, day in, day out, wiping off all the blood and picking out bits of undead flesh from the tracks? Double that. And what do you think happens when we have to send those same engineers out into battle them because all our ordinary soldiers are getting infected or torn to shreds? If you go up to the centre of London all you're going to find are battalions worth of undead soldiers and wrecked vehicles abandoned by the wayside because we couldn't keep them going. And we're doing well compared to the other countries militaries, that's the funny thing…"

Chris sighed as they passed by an abandoned armoured vehicle, the corpses of dead soldiers sat with their sidearms drawn and gaping bullet wounds in their heads.

"Of course all that effort was wasted." Jessica continued next to him. "Because there was no point to it. We were just going out on missions, clearing infested buildings, scavenging important documents from government buildings and holding the barricades, thinking all the time we were doing good and pushing the undead back when it fact it was all a diversion! Command just wanted us to sit there and fight whilst they built that giant defence wall to protect themselves!"

She shook her head as they turned the corner of the street, Aafia, Lexi and Jacob visible in the slightly battered police car behind.

"Shit stop stop stop!" Jessica hissed and Gage hit the brakes, almost sending the two passengers on the roof tumbling off as they screeched to a stop.

"What the…" Chris heard Mark say below, but instantly stopped as they all noticed what was up ahead.

Beyond ,down a street filled with abandoned shops and restuarants, the green and yellow form of a BP petrol station loomed, but it was the crude barricade of wood and steel spikes that caught his attention, and the men with guns standing by it.

"Bandits."

* * *

The group hastily convened by the police car, after shifting both vehicles around the corner and sending Jacob up to the roof of a nearby McDonalds to keep an eye on the petrol station further up the street.

"Look, I say we just go around… I mean, we don't even know if these people are bandits or just people like us trying to get by." Mark said,nervously checking his crossbow and bolts as he leaned on the Land Rover.

"And waste about a days' worth of time? Besides, anybody out in this area is either a walker or a bandit by now. Trust me, we heard stories about this area that a whole gang of young men went and killed every living resident before they took over so it's not like we're killing little old ladies and children here" Jessica shot back before adding. "All the roads near here are either too full of debris or have so many craters it would be impossible to get around without turning back the way we came."

"She's right. The only way is through them." Gage said, his arms folded across his chest as Eliza began to speak.

"Yeah, that seems a great idea and all but, should we waste all our ammo and risk our lives just to save us a few hours? I agree with Mark. We can just go around."

Chris felt torn. On the one hand, Jessica and Gage were right. He was tired of having to run from thugs like Marvalo and Sunil Singh but, at the same time, he didn't want anyone else to die because they needlessly tried to stand up to the unstoppable tide of scum that preyed on the weak now that the old institutions were falling apart. By now it seemed the group were split almost evenly, with Lexi agreeing with Mark and Eliza whilst Aafia was all for fighting the bandits. Taking a deep breath, he made his decision.

"So what do you say mate?" Mark asked. "Want to take on those thugs with guns, or live to fight another day?"

Chris sighed.

"Let's do it. We need to fight."

"Look those guys must outnumber us two to one Chris?" Eliza said with a frown. "And I don't know about you but I'm running short on bullets.

"I may have an idea of how we can do this a bit more…stealthy." Gage said with a grin as he drew his kukri.

* * *

Only five minutes later and Chris, Jessica and Gage were crouched behind a burnt out ambulance near the barricade, all with weapons drawn. Gage had his kukri, Jessica a wicked looking combat knife, whilist Chris felt slightly out of place with the large chef knife he had taken from the restaurant the day of the outbreak.

"Ok." Gage whispered as he peered around the side of their cover. "This front area is too well guarded. If we can sneak around to over by the actual station forecourt we can cut around the back."

Chris checked the view down the street and felt his blood run cold.

The barricade, only a few metres away, was guarded by two shaven headed men hefting bolt action rifles, whilist on the roof of the petrol station sat three more with machetes and baseball bats and one carrying a heavy AK-47 as he looked out.

"Chris, get that bottle." Gage ordered, motioning to a beer bottle just by Chris' foot and, as he picked it up, pointed toward a spot just by the barricade.

Peeking around the other side of the ambulance as the two guards started laughing amongst themselves, he threw the bottle and watched it smash against a lamppost beyond the two men.

"Shit!" bellowed the larger of the two bandits and aimed his rifle in all directions. "Better check it…"

"Dumb bastards." Jessica said with a laugh as Gage led the three of them, at a crouched run, across the road and into the open door of the small Italian restaurant across the street. As they hid behind the tattered leather seating Gage motioned towards the backdoor and moved toward it, kukri at the ready. As he watched the old soldier half crawl, half crouch walk toward the door, Chris heard voices on the other end.

"The door." He hissed and Gage turned back, nodded and beckoned for him to follow.

"I hear two." He said. "You take left, I'll take right."

Chris didn't feel entirely confident with ramming his knife through some poor fool's neck, but,as he listened to the men on the other side talking in hushed tones he reconsidered. It was either these possibly murderous bandit types or his group.

"Ready?" Gage asked as they stood either side of the small wooden door, Jessica moving in behind whilst watching the front entrance.

Chris nodded and, after one last glance at his companions, the old soldier kicked the door in.

Chris had a brief glimpse of two men on the other side reaching for their machetes before Gage slit the throat of the first one and he rammed his blade through the neck of the other.

"Nice." Jessica remarked as she drew her pistol, a suppressor attacked to the end, and finished off the one with a hole in his neck and stepped out into the small alleyway.

Chris nodded and motioned towards the end of the alley, which opened out onto the petrol station forecourt, a few figures visible moving amongst the vehicles parked up around the small shop area.

The others nodded and moved up with him, Gage holding up a fist as they came onto the forecourt and took cover behind a parked van.

"Round to the right and behind that truck." He ordered. "Then it's a straight shot to the back of the shop."

"How do you think the others are?" Jessica asked. "I hope your friends on the McDonalds know what they're doing."

"Lexi and Jacob will be fine." Chris said before they crawled around the side and up to the side of the large fuel tanker truck, hearing the footsteps of two more bandits up by the shop, one tapping his machete against his leg as the other shouted something at the two barricade guards.

Seeing the opportunity they moved around, then froze as they heard a set of footsteps approach around the other side of the van.

Instantly Chris silently ran up to the front of the truck and waited, knife raised. He dint have to wait long before a man dressed in a tattered red hoodie carrying a machete turned the corner,hand reaching for his weapon as he was about to cry out. In a heartbeat Chris put his hand over the man's mouth and stabbed him in the neck, wincing at the man's muffled shouts and catching him as he fell to the ground. Propping him up against the cab and sticking the machete through his belt he breathed a sigh of relief and beckoned to his companions, Gage giving him a thumbs up as they moved around to the back end of the shop building and stood by a pile of toppled bins.

Gage was about to reach for the door handle when they heard the click of a weapon being drawn and turned around as one. Chris felt his blood chill as they were confronted by a spotty teenager hefting a heavy pump action shotgun, eyes wide as he aimed it at them, mouth open in a horrified expression.

"You…" he began, but was cut off by a crossbow bolt suddenly striking him in the back of the head, and Jessica ran to catch him and grab his gun as Chris and Gage looked on.

Chris felt a smile coming to his face as he saw Mark just across the forecourt,crouched behind a car with Eliza, ramming another bolt into his crossbow as he gave Chris a thumbs up.

"It's empty anyway." Jessica whispered as she placed the useless gun next to its dead owner and smiled at Mark across the way.

"Your boy over there's pretty good with that thing." She said in Chris' ear as they followed Gage to the door and stood by it.

Chris shrugged and nodded at Gage, who grinned and silently shoved open the flimsy door and stepped into the darkness of the back storeroom.

"Only two. Wait here." Gage said firmly and crawled into the main shop area, kukri at the ready.

For a few nerve wracking seconds Chris and Jessica sat in the darkness before they heard a muffled cry and the slash of a blade against skin before Gage appeared in the doorway, kukri painted crimson as he said softly.

"Rooms clear."

* * *

Across the street Lexi and Jacob sat, rifles set to the low concrete parapet at the edge of the roof.

"They're doing ok." Lexi said as she looked down the sights of Gage's rifle, hoping the brief bit of training he had given her and Eliza on the way back from Southampton had paid off. Jacob nodded and looked down his rifles scope,picking out the bandits on the roof.

"Definitely bad guys." He said with a grim smile. "Guy with the AK has got a nice necklace made of human ears."

"Ew." Lexi said softly. "What does he think he is? A raider from Fallout?"

Jacob grinned.

"Just keep your eyes open nerd girl and wait for the…"

"Shit ,the signal." Lexi cursed as she saw a small Union Jack waving from the shop window, the one Gage and Mark had insisted on taking from that soldier woman's checkpoint.

"Ok, I'll take the guys on the roof. You take the skinheads at the barricade. Rememeber,take a deep breath and keep that gun set to your shoulder."

Lexi nodded and aimed the bulky weapon downwards, picking out the more thuggish looking of the two barricade guards first.

"Ready?"

Lexi nodded as Jacob looked down his sight.

"Go."

She fired, the bullet hitting the thug clean between the eyes. But there was no time for celebrations as the other man shouted something and ran down the road, firing his rifle as he went. Lexi glanced at Jacob, but he was busy trading fire with the AK wielding bandit, who was the only one left after his accurate bursts of fire had cleared the roof and the forecourt.

Standing up Lexi took a deep breath and aimed at the fleeing bandit as he ran past the small station shop. She never got a chance to fire though as the dull bang of a pistol echoed out and the man crumpled with a bullet in his skull as Eliza stepped forwards, blowing a small puff of smoke from the gun barrel.

"Sexy and a good shot?" Lexi muttered to herself with a grin. "She is definitely a keeper…"

The rest of the group was already on the petrol station forecourt when Lexi and Jacob had climbed down from the McDonalds and they re-joined them as Mark and Eliza started piling weapons in a line across the bonnet of a beaten up white Audi.

"What we got then?" Chris asked as he studied the small haul they had looted from the surrounding bodies of the bandits, which Jessica was already putting bullets through just to be safe.

"Two rifles, one shotgun, five machetes, two baseball bats, a pistol and one AK-47." Mark said as he set down a few spare pistol magazines.

"So what are we taking then? Gage, Jessica, you guys should know the most about this sort of thing."

Jessica nodded as she stood beside Mark and reloaded her pistol.

"I would say, take the two rifles. If you don't want them I know a few snipers at a checkpoint on the way who would literally kill to get some more good weapons. No to the shotgun. Those things are freaking dinner bells for undead anyway so ones definitely enough for us. The machetes and pistol, yes. Definitely no to the AK. What kind of dumb fuck uses that inaccurate piece of crap?"

"I could name at least one…" Eliza said with a slightly strained smile and Lexi couldn't help wincing at that. She didn't think Eliza had really got over the death of her friend Lauren at the hands of the same man who had almost blown her head off with a Desert Eagle. The fact she never spoke about Lauren made it even sadder. It was the same with Mark and the death of the American preacher Michael. Both were obviously very torn up over it and it was kind of a silent agreement that talking about them now wasn't the best idea.

By now Aafia had brought the car around and was wiping blood off the kitchen knife in her hand as she stepped out.

"Found one lurking by the cars." She explained as she adjusted her hijab. "He's not a problem anymore. Anyway what's the plan soldier girl?"

Jessica grinned.

"Now it's on to the safe zone."


	4. Chapter 4- Rise of a Tyrant Part 2

**(The day of the outbreak)**

"Smash his fucking face in!"

"Take him down!"

"I'm gonna tear you apart pig!"

Raj awoke to the sound of fighting in the street that morning. Outside he could hear shouts of victory and bellowed orders by police and the smack of booted feet retreating further along. Checking the clock he found it was only ten minutes past midnight and yet; although the room was pitch black except for the light spilling in through the thin curtains onto his face he could just about see shadows moving in the street below. Sighing he grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and stumbled out of bed, listening constantly to the sounds of sirens and glass being smashed outside.

"Fucking rioters…" he muttered to himself as he staggered down the stairs, intending to just check if he was in any sort of danger before stumbling back to bed. For some reason he felt different to how he had only a day ago. There was something in the air, something which just didn't feel right. Then he heard a woman's screams at the door and fists hammering on wood.

"Shit." Raj cursed and barrelled down the stairs, not caring he was only dressed in a slightly stained white shirt and boxer shorts as he unlocked the door with trembling hands and hurled it open. For a second he had a vision of dark figures sprinting down the streets, shouting and laughing amongst themselves, before the figure in the doorway leapt at him and wrapped their arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder.

"Anna?" he said softly as the woman extracted herself from his sides and looked up at him, her long blonde hair flowing down her back streaked with ash and soot.

His girlfriend only shook her head, her pale face scared and her green eyes wide as she slammed the door shit behind her. Raj still couldn't believe someone this good looking wanted to be with him, especially since her older brother was Kyle Davis, one of Sunil's friends and probably one of the most threatening people he had ever encountered. He held Anna close as she, trembling slightly and glancing back at the door for a second, explained herself.

"Look…things are just crazy out there." She said softly. "I don't know why but people are just going mental. Smashing stuff up, burning places down. I must have seen at least three police officers lying in the road unconscious on the way here."

"Where are the police then? Shouldn't they be stopping this?"

Anna sighed.

"Don't you get it Raj? People like my brother and Sunil are just out there, trashing the place for no reason and, guess what? The police are nowhere to be seen. I hear there's something going down at the Royal London Hospital but I've been too busy dodging drugged up kids and arsonists to care…"

"Are you ok?" Raj asked softly, sensing Anna was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Whatever was happening outside, he was determined to keep her safe from it.

Anna shook her head softly.

"Can I stay the night with you? Rose called and said she's staying with her sister until we're sure our flats not going to get trashed in the night and I left my wallet back at home."

Raj nodded.

"As long as you want."

"Won't Sunil…"

Raj smiled confidently.

"Screw Sunil. I'm not letting you get hurt out there."

Anna planted a kiss on his cheek as she turned to the stairs, taking off her coat and draping it over her arms she whispered a silent 'thank you' at Raj as she climbed up the stairs.

Raj grinned as he turned to lock the door. Whatever was happening out there, he was still happy. He was safe, Anna was safe, and Sunil was nowhere to be seen. However the absence of any real police presence unnerved him and he paused for a second as he took his mobile from his pocket and dialled the number of Mr Sharma, hoping his father's old friend would know what was going on.

But when he finally got through for a second he heard raised voices and what sounded like the thud of gunfire in the background before the veteran officer's voice came over the phone, sounding harried and slightly scared.

"Who is this?" he demanded in a brisk tone.

"It's me, Raj Singh…" he replied and heard Mr Sharma sigh.

"Please don't tell me you're out on the streets. Trust me, its total chaos. Your whole neighbourhoods just going to hell Raj…" he added, breathing heavily and having to speak louder as other voices could be heard in the background shouting orders.

"No but…wait was that gunfire? What's going on?"

"Nothing Raj, trust me. Just some kids with firecrackers...at the hospital. Look, just lock the doors, keep your phone with you at all times and just wait for these little shits to get bored. I wish I could help but there's a…problem down at the hospital. I really can't talk now Raj but if you call me in the morning I'll tell you everything."

The phone went dead and Raj punched the wall, feeling a surge of rage for a second before the throbbing pain in his hand brought him back to his senses.

"Raj? I heard voices?" Anna said from the top of the stairs and Raj quickly put on a false smile, as if everything was alright.

"It's nothing…Just the office saying tomorrows shift is cancelled again."

Anna sighed and nodded slowly.

"Just go back upstairs Anna. I'm just locking up." Raj said softly and the girl smiled and disappeared back upstairs.

Taking a deep breath Raj went to lock the door when it was suddenly hurled open, and he felt a blast of the stench of soot flood in, Sunil standing proudly in the door, a bundle of rags in one hand and a baseball bat in the other, draped over his right shoulder.

"How's things little brother?" he said with a grin and pushed past him,slamming the door behind him as the sounds of breaking glass outside got louder.

"What's going on Sunil?" Raj said warily as his brother marched into the kitchen, hurling the baseball bat to one side, which Raj noticed had a faint spatter of crimson on, and setting the bundle down on the table with a metallic clatter and pulling up a chair to sit on.

"Take a seat and I'll show you." Sunil said in reply, his voice surprisingly polite but Raj could tell there was something behind his good mood, something not right.

Pulling up a chair and keeping his eyes on the bundle Raj watched as Sunil, leaning back on his chair and his arms behind the back of his head, began to speak.

"I'm guessing you noticed the chaos outside then?" he said casually, as if discussing the weather, and when Raj nodded he only laughed.

"Bet you wonder where I've been then, don't you?" he said with a grin, but when his brother didn't reply he frowned and continued regardless. "Well me and Jamie and Kyle were coming up the Morton Road, not seeing any police or anything. There were little kids in hoodies just going from shop to shop smashing windows and grabbing what they could." He added with a smile. "And then we see the old police station, you know, where that old bastard Shithead Sharma works… Guess what. Nobody's there! Literally not a fucking soul. It was creepy man. The desks were still full of stuff and it just looking like the fucking Mary Celeste. Kyle was saying he saw a load of police cars heading into the city so I guess there's something bigger than these little riots to worry about. Maybe the fucking Prime Minister died or some bullshit. Anyway we happened to be able to 'Acquire' some choice items from the evidence locker…" he said with another wild grin and opened up the bundle of rags.

"Holy fuck." Raj said softy as his blood ran cold.

On the table in front of him, in between a stack of evil looking knives and machetes, sat a small black automatic pistol, a chrome plated Desert Eagle handgun and a polished AK-47, and a stack of ammunition.

"I guess we have to thank big shot drug dealers and Russian gangsters for these particular pieces." Sunil said between barely suppressed gleeful giggles as he picked up the Desert Eagle, hefting it in both hands and, so expertly it shocked his brother, slammed a magazine in and loaded the weapon.

"Why Sunil? This is fucking dangerous shit man!" Raj said, breathing heavily as he stood up across the table from his gun toting brother, his fists clenching and unclenching slowly.

"Because I think this is only the beginning you stupid fuck!" Sunil roared. "And when whatever bullshit that's happening soon enough happens, I'm going to be the fucking first in line for a little promotion in life! I'm going to get to the top little brother, and I'm going to get there by climbing over the bodies of everyone who opposes me!"

Raj drew himself up to his full height, now staring straight into his brother's eyes.

"This is madness Sunil." He said calmly, but the anger behind it was obvious. "Nothing is happening out there and you seem to think you can just suddenly be in charge eh? Be the bloody king of London?"

Sunil laughed, but he gripped the gun by his side so hard his fingers turned white.

"Maybe I will be little brother. Maybe then you'll realise that, for all your high and mighty bullshit, you're just as bad as me…"

He grinned and Raj felt his cheeks redden.

"Angry are we little Raj?" Sunil said with a laugh. "You should be. There are plenty of guns for both of us. What's say you and me go out there and…?"

They were interrupted by Anna appearing in the doorway, her face pale.

"Raj, what is…sweet Jesus." She screamed as she saw the gun in Sunil's hand. "Sunil, what the hell is going on here? Why the fuck do you have those…things."

Sunil's smile died and Raj saw her frown begin to tighten, saw his eyes stare straight at Anna, and saw his fingers grip his handgun even harder. That's when he got scared, and moved in front of Anna, whose eyes widened in horror.

"Look just stop brother." Raj said softly, putting his hand on Sunil's shoulder, not realising his phone was still in it as Sunil brushed him off and grabbed the phone, absently scrolling through it as he turned away.

Raj felt himself sigh with relief, and then his brother turned around and smacked the heavy pistol straight into Raj's face, knocking him to his knees, his cracked glasses falling off his face and across the tiled floor with a slight clatter.

"You've been fucking talking to that pig Sharma?!" Sunil roared, and Raj was truly afraid as another blow struck him on the back, sending him to the hard tiled floor. "You've been fucking ratting me out you traitorous shit!" he added, kicking Raj in the ribs savagely.

"No it was…" Anna began, standing over Raj and staring at Sunil, her face red with anger.

"You fucking bitch!" Sunil hissed and grabbed her by the ear and spun her around, putting the pistol straight in her face. "I bet you were in on it too eh? Bet you've been crying back to them! You're not just betraying me you're betraying your brother ,filthy whore!"

Drawing his free hand back Sunil slapped her in the face, and Raj felt pure anger and hatred rising in him at the sight of Anna's blood over his brother's hand. But his brother wasn't finished yet as he drew Anna close, the gun literally rammed next to her left eye.

"What's to stop me putting a bullet through your pretty face bitch?" Sunil demanded, grinning as Anna cried out and struggled. You want me to put a nice .357 round through your eye you slut? Because I can you little shit. Because, guess what? I'm Sunil Singh! I'm the big man now! One day I will rule this city and there's not a fucking thing you can do to stop me!"

It was then, as Sunil stood over him,threatening his girlfriend with a huge pistol,blood on his hands and screaming his name that Raj made a decision and spoke.

"No. You're wrong."

Sunil paused, mid tirade, spittle still coating the sides of his mouth and he spoke,in the calmest and most terrifying voice Raj had ever heard.

"What did you just say?"

Raj didnt care anymore. Sunil had crossed a line and he was going to make him pay.

"I said no."

"No to what you little fuck?" Sunil demanded,his previous calm giving way once more to rage.

Raj stood up, noticing that somehow his brother seemed smaller now, diminished, except for the gun in his hand which he still aimed at his girlfriend with a savage gleam in his eye. He didn't answer, merely stared at his brother.

"I'm going to fucking end you." Sunil said calmly as he raised his gun and turned to face his brother.

It all happened so fast that Raj barely noticed Anna screaming in the background, only saw his brother's shocked face as Raj scooped up the AK from the table in his right hand and brought it crashing around into Sunil's face, watching with savage joy as blood spurted from his nose and he fell to his knees, the handgun sliding under the table and out of sight.

"I told you . You're wrong." Raj said calmly as he stood over his brother.

"About what?" came the almost tearful reply.

Raj only smiled as he brought his AK to his shoulder and aimed at his brother's face before he spoke.

"I am Sunil Singh." He said as he pulled the trigger and watched his brother's head torn apart by the bullet and scatter across the kitchen.


	5. Chapter 5- Kings and Castles

It was beginning to grow dark by the time they reached the so called 'safe route' that Jessica had pointed out as most of the way there had been filled with abandoned vehicles and small bands of walkers that need clearing out first. And yet Mark already felt a lot more secure as soon as they turned onto the wide roadway filled with cars loaded down with supplies all heading north, all crammed full of desperate looking survivors. The road was lit up by the lights of dozens of floodlights, the gathering gloom disappearing around their forms which lit up the squads of military and police snipers on the rooftops above. As they passed another security checkpoint, this one staffed by grim faced police officers in much thicker body armour and riot gear than Mark had seen before and surrounded by police vehicles, lights blazing out into the evening, he turned to Eliza who sat next to him in the back of the Land Rover, Gage and Jessica up front chatting away about something military related.

"How are you holding up? He asked with a smile. Of all people he knew that Eliza would open up to him. With Chris and Lexi crammed into the police car behind with Aafia and Jacob he hoped he could still get her to talk about was making her seem so distant recently.

"Not great." Eliza muttered, pulling her coat, a stylish leather jacket he remembered one of her boyfriend's buying her a year ago, around herself and glancing at the floor.

"Go on?" Mark said gently. Once they reached the safe zone he was determined to try and get everyone to at least discuss their problems with each other. It wasn't exactly psychiatric help but hopefully it could stop anybody going off the deep end or just lapsing into apathy, like Michael had. Chris and Eliza and the rest were like his family now, after his son's tragic death, and he wasn't going to let them fall to this cruel apocalypse.

Eliza sighed.

"I was just, you know, thinking about her."

"Lexi?"

Eliza shook her head.

"Her too but no. I meant Lauren."

Mark nodded. That had been an awful day trying to scavenge Stan's house. Not only had he lost his son but Eliza had lost Lauren, who had, from what he had heard about her from Chris and Eliza, had been a gentle, if shy, girl, and hadn't deserved the bullet to the head Sunil Singh had so casually ended her with.

"It's ok…" he began but Eliza shook her head.

"It's not Mark. I shouldn't just let myself get all down about it. I said I loved her, yes, but I barely knew her. I just feel guilty for dragging her along. Maybe if I hadn't brought her with us that…Sunil Singh wouldn't have blown her brains out. She shouldn't have come Mark. She said she was going to her brother's. He's an army reserve soldier. If only I could have…"

Mark put a hand on her shoulder and she stopped, the tears flowing freely down her face but her eyes were much clearer, as if some burden had been lightened in her mind.

"It's ok to be sad about it." He said gently, the lights from a row of police cars up ahead lighting up the dim interior of the car briefly as he spoke. "I mean, every time I close my eyes I see little Thomas' face but I've just had to stay strong, as much for his memory as for me. We've all spent too long staying silent about our sadness already. I promise you, once we get to the safe zone we're going to talk about it and put all those ghosts of the past to rest."

Eliza smiled, the tears still on her cheek as she leaned forward and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you." She whispered softly,and Mark felt his cheeks redden a bit. He still remembered how, only a few years ago, he had had a bit of a crush on Eliza. It hadn't gone further than a date a while back but, if there hadn't been the small matter of an apocalypse to deal with, he had been about to ask her out again, if only to try and see if things might work out this time.

All thoughts of attempts to romance his best friends' sister were swept aside when the Land Rover abruptly stopped, the lines of traffic around them also now stationary, their occupants wide eyes or clutching scavenged weapons to them.

"What's the holdup?" Eliza asked as she leaned forward and Jessica only smirked and pointed up ahead, to where a towering concrete wall blocked off the street, along with an open set of steel gate, guarded by a small squad of soldiers with assault rifles, a few in a small metal watchtower above watching the traffic below.

"I'll get us through…" Jessica said simply and got out the car, slamming the door behind her and walking along the line of cars.

"Who died and put her in charge?" Eliza said with a frown but Gage and Mark only grinned.

"I guess we never did have a leader…" Gage replied, a smile crossing his face as he turned in his seat to talk to them.

"What about you Gage?" Mark asked. "It's not like anyone else in the group can say they've actually killed a man before all this."

Gage grinned, but Mark could see a twinge of sadness behind the old soldier's smile.

"Guess I'm just not the leader type." He said. "I can relay orders from a lieutenant or something but I'm just not the right kind of man for a proper leadership role. I work better as a second in command really."

"What about you then Mark?" Eliza said thoughtfully. "You got our arses out of Southampton and away from that bitch Marvalo."

Mark shrugged.

"I guess I'm good in a crisis but I don't know about being a leader. What about Chris?"

Eliza smiled at that.

"Look." She said softly. "No offence, I love Chris and all but he's just not made to be a leader. Too indecisive and he thinks about stuff way too much sometimes…"

"What's this about a leader?" said Jessica as she reappeared at the door, a burly soldier with sandy brown hair and slightly ragged combat fatigues behind her, a sleek L96 sniper rifle slung over his shoulder.

"Nothing…" Mark said quickly. He still didn't know what to think of this slightly rude soldier.

'At least she's hot.' He thought to himself as he opened up the back of the Land Rover and stepped out into the cool evening air, to be greeted by the new soldier, who thrust a hand at him, the other resting on his rifle.

"Adam Ratcliffe. Sergeant Adam Ratcliffe." He said in a deep voice, smiling warmly as he enveloped Mark's hand in a firm, if slightly crushing, handshake. "I believe you're riding with Private Parr here?"

Mark nodded.

"We're heading for the Westminster Safe Zone. What's the holdup?" he asked, politely but slightly angrily.

The soldier sighed.

"That bastard bandit leader, the so called 'King of London' has been sending out saboteurs for a day or so now. Just had a whole truckload of explosives detonate on the A202, the main route you would be taking to get to the safe zone. It's going to take us at least a day or two to get some engineers to repair it. There are already a few hundred walkers advancing there now."

"So what then?"

The soldier grinned.

"We're off to the Tower of London my friend."

An hour late and they were at the head of the long line of civilian vehicles and military and police escorts driving through the gathering darkness towards the Tower of London, two armoured vehicles ahead of them sweeping bright searchlights across the street ahead, illuminating a few crumpled corpses and the odd lone walker, which the snipers perched on the armoured cars took out with the dull thud of suppressed rifles. Mark sat on the roof of the Land Rover, much as Chris had the day before, the soldier Adam Ratcliffe sat with him. Despite the darkness on all sides Mark felt safer than he had for a long time as a helicopter passed low overhead, sweeping its searchlight around the empty buildings, the dark forms of snipers and door gunners just visible on the sides. Waving at Chris, who was a few cars down on top of their other car with Aafia keeping watch, he turned to the soldier next to him.

"So why the Tower of London then? I know it sounds stupid me asking, but we've been out of London for a while…"

Adam only shrugged.

"Fair enough…Mark, was it? Jessica was telling me all about you guys on the way here."

"How do you know her?" Mark asked.

"She was in my class back at the training college in Harrogate. Her and her friend Ben Jones. I'm just surprised to see her here. Anyway, of course, you need to know about the city, don't you? The Tower of London is our command post in that area of London. High walls, relatively clean water supply after we got the filtration system in, and a commanding position to intercept any bandit forces."

"Are they a big problem?"

Adam shook his head.

"Not at the moment. That truck bomb was probably the biggest attack they've made so far. As long as we have our tanks, helicopters and generally better men and weapons, we should be fine. The long term plans the Prime Minister's putting forward is to just try and hang on long enough for all the walkers to rot and then we rebuild from there."

"What about this 'King of London' character?"

Adam smirked and Mark couldn't help but thinking about what the soldier had just said. Take away all that military hardware he had been bragging about and, to be honest, there wasn't a lot stopping the bandits and walkers from overrunning the city.

"Small fry." The soldier said. "Him and his little gang will all be dead soon."

"Ever heard of a man called Sunil Singh?" Mark asked, raising an eyebrow but the soldier only shrugged again.

"Never. Probably some small time thug that we'll take out soon enough."

Mark only shook his head at that.

"Well that thug is what we've been running from for what feels like forever. Killed my friend's lover and had his men attack us and kill the American preacher who had joined our band.

The soldier sighed and put a hand on Mark's shoulder.

"I'm sorry man. I guess us lot in the city just don't realise how bad it's been for everyone else out there who doesn't have the military or giant walls to keep them safe. You said an American was with you?" he added with a raised eyebrow.

"What of it?

"Did he tell you how the country was holding up. All the reports we got were awful…"

"He didn't sorry. He only had bad memories after he came here." Mark said softly, still remembering that image of the bullet slamming into Michael from nowhere.

"Shame." Adam said simply. "I had a friend who was going over there just before this all started. Ben Smith. Bit of a nerd but he's a good kid; just hope he's ok. I mean, I taught him to shoot and everything. I hope he still remembers us lot back home if he's still alive out there."

Mark nodded.

"My parents are in Gibraltar at the moment. I haven't heard anything rom them for over a week now."

"Gibraltar? They should be fine Mark. I hear a Royal Navy taskforce was ferrying people from Southampton to there. Must be safe.I would have considered going myself if Southampton hadn't been bombed into oblivion…"

Mark sighed. He couldn't bring himself to remember that awful day in Southampton.

"We're here my friend!" Adam suddenly said with a laugh and Mark looked up from the road to the view ahead.

Rising up from the dark streets beyond in a blaze of light, the Tower of London loomed overhead, soldiers visible on the walls and towers as searchlights illuminated the convoy. Through it all Mark could see the great stone keep, the huge wood and steel reinforced gates opening and soldiers running out, lights on their rifles marking them out as they ran out to greet them.

For a second he felt himself grin then laugh. They were being saved. No walker or bandit could possibly get through those walls. When a soldier ran up to them, his face unshaven and a frown crossing his features, Mark could have almost kissed him. Then that same soldier's chest exploded out in a blast of crimson and a blood spattered machete emerged out like a chestburster from _Alien_.

"Holy shit!" he shouted and drew his pistol, already seeing the grinning face of the machete wielder blown out by a bullet as Adam drew his own sidearm and started shooting at the dark figures running out from all sides.

For a second Mark thought they were walkers, but when he saw the lights glinting off weapons and the harsh rattle of assault rifles he knew they had just walked into an ambush. He saw the soldiers from the Tower still sprinting towards them, then they were lost from view as the lead armoured vehicle went up in a blast of orange flame, sending him sprawling onto the bonnet of the car behind, Adam flying down to the pavement with a howl of pain.

In a way he was lucky though,as he lay there, dazed and light headed, on the bonnet of the white BMW, he saw shadowy figures climb up onto the sides of the Land Rover, dragging Gage and Jessica out with mad laughter echoing around him. Jessica went without a fight after a bandit in a black hoodie and combat armour smacked her in the face but Gage fought for a few seconds, slashing his kukri across a howling woman's face as she swung a cricket bat at him before three men in blood splattered riot gear hurled him to the ground and started beating on him.

Turning around, spots of light moving across his eyes, Mark watched the whole convoy being set upon by the bandits, a few police and soldiers fighting on as civilians were dragged, literally kicking and screaming,onto the tarmac and hauled away. He saw Aafia and Jacob, back to back with their weapons out, felling a whole group of screaming bandits in a hail of gunfire as Lexi stood on the roof of the police car, firing Gage's rifle with tears streaming down his face. Stumbling to his feet he staggered towards them, before he heard a scream of pain from nearby and whipped his head around, pistol aimed at head height.

He felt his hair go on end as he saw Chris, his face drenched in blood from an evil looking head wound, draped over the shoulder of a hulking bandit hefting a huge shotgun, whilst Eliza staggered behind him, a grinning woman with wild red hair holding a blood-stained knife to her throat as they disappeared into the dark streets beyond.

"Shit no!" he heard himself shout, but he was a world away as another car went up in flames and he saw a bandit, a dirt encrusted fire axe in hand ,advance on him from the side, bringing his weapon up for a deadly blow. And yet he never got the chance as the harsh crack of a sniper rifle burst through the screams and rattle of automatic weapons and Adam appeared, pulling back the bolt on his L96 as he checked the bandit corpse, before offering a hand to Mark.

"We need to go." He said simply as he hauled Mark to his feet and began dragging him towards the form of the Tower beyond, pushing through a whole platoon of soldiers rushing through the gates to pursue the fleeing bandits, the whir of a helicopter overhead punctuated by the rattle of its door gunner's weapons.

The last thing Mark saw before the street beyond was lost from view behind a squad of soldiers with dogs sprinting past was a lone figure, bald and dressed in riot gear painted crimson by both paint and blood, raise a fist to the skies and bellow out, his voice accompanied by dozens of others.

"Long live the king!"


	6. Chapter 6- Loyalty to the King

The world around Chris moved and shook, adding even more to the stinging pain in his head, which had been surprisingly expertly bandaged after a gun butt had almost cracked his head open, but he saw nothing through the thick canvas hood which covered his head. He could just hear the ragged breathing of Eliza and Jessica beside him, while the groan of what could only be Gage was audible further away. He was surprised the Gurkha was still up after he had watched helplessly as three men beat the old soldier down with rifle butts even as two more wrestled his kukri away. Unfortunately he couldn't say the same about himself. It had only taken one muscle-bound thug with a shotgun to wrestle him to the ground and hurl him into the back of a stolen military truck before he submitted. Then the only way of knowing where he was going was by the rumble of the trucks engine and the hushed whispers of the two bandits up front. And yet he couldn't make out anything, beyond a few mentions of a hotel and 'the king's court', before the truck stopped and he heard the back doors open.

"Some more subjects for our glorious leader?" He heard one woman say with a laugh and one of the men from the truck shouted back a lewd comment and kick Chris forward. Then he heard Eliza scream. If his hands hadn't been bound and there wasn't a man behind him prodding a pistol into his neck Chris knew he would have leapt to her defence, but he could already feel two pairs of hands grab him under the shoulders and propel him away.

He was dragged into a room that felt almost completely empty, despite not knowing what he was surrounded by, due to the bag over his head and the rope binding his wrists. But he could practically smell the elegance and opulence of the room, from the faint smell of wax candles to the slight stench of old paint and wood. For a second he thought he was in Buckingham Palace or some stately home as he was thrown to the floor and felt soft carpet underneath him.

"You're lucky. You have the privilege of addressing the King of London." One of his captors said before snapping. "Now kneel!"

The two people who had dragged him into this room left as Chris fell to his knees. Then he began to notice another presence; A presence that approached him and pulled the bag off of his head in one fluid movement.

Sunil.

He was wearing a clean white shirt and red tie, his Desert Eagle in a shoulder holster at his side. But it was what sat atop the man's short cropped black hair that caught Chris attention. A crown of bones tinged with grey and brown, some with scraps of flesh still hanging off them. Chris looked away and around his surroundings, noticing that the room was a plush hotel suite filled with expensive furniture and racks of clean suits and shirts.

Sunil gave a devilish smile.

"Christopher, kneel for your King. Do you like my crown?" he asked cordially as he paced the room. Chris wasn't listening. He saw Sunil's AK-47 leaning up against the bed. If only he could reach it. His hands may have been bound but he was sure he could at least…

"Look at me!" Sunil roared and grabbed Chris' face; his chrome plated Desert Eagle shoved into his forehead as the self-proclaimed king stared at him.

Chris felt his blood go cold as Sunil dug the gun further into his forehead until, with no word of explanation, withdrew the weapon and slipped it into his shoulder holster before pointing at his grisly crown.

"My boys made it from walkers and the bones of this buildings original occupants. A little messy, but the thought that went into it is charming." He stated, only half sarcastically and with a wide grin.

"Fuck off. You're an animal." Chris said, venomously.

Sunil laughed.

"We're all animals, Chris. That's something you never understood. Myself and the 'criminals' that fought against your broken system are the only people who will ever understand that. The human race was made as the embodiment of chaos and destruction. Look at what we've achieved throughout history: killed each other over bits of grass, sand and water and called it just or decided that people who aren't the same as them deserves to die, either by Holocaust, Crusade or the rises of a plain old tyrannical dictators to slaughter countless millions. For what? To create a fair and equal planet?!" Sunil paused to spit in Chris' face and kick him down from his upright position. Sunil got close to Chris' face and his hand hovered over his holster before another genial grin broke across his face and he ruffled Chris' hair before continuing.

"You think any world other than the one we're in now was really fair? Was truly peaceful? This is as fair as it gets my friend. The government was always full of liars and murderers and always would be. Their system was no more true or fair than putting a bag over your head at birth and telling you the world is and always was blank for the rest of your life. I'm just breaking that cycle" Sunil scoffed.

"By what? Being a small time bandit?" Chris shot back, expecting another blow, but instead Sunil grinned.

"Clever boy Christopher. And yet that band you saw on your so called 'safe route' is merely a fraction of my power. A king needs an army doesn't he? An army that can be told what to do, whenever he wants. And believe me, I told them exactly what to do. That's why my beautiful band of thugs, crooks, junkies, murderers and psychopaths are the way they are. Because I told them how shitty the world was and how I wanted to fuck the government in the arse so hard those bastards would bleed just like they had done to us all of our lives. Any one of the 'Westminster Safe Zone' bastards are more crooked, twisted, psychopathic, cynical and fucked up than any of us put together. They murdered more people than this goddamned plague." He explained, with an air of self-importance.

"What is it that you think this virus does? Makes us crazed, flesh-hungry killers? No, it's much more frightening than that. It keeps us the same. Strips us of our developed inhibitions and leaves us as we originally were. Takes away this bullshit conscience and taught sense of 'right' and 'wrong' we were brainwashed to believe was true. Leaves us the way we started. Killing is in our DNA. We were programmed to be brutal and nothing more. We started fooling ourselves into our idea of civilisation only to have it come crashing down in a matter of days. That's why I've flourished here. Because I am now in touch with my true human nature. I was once as blinded as everyone else, but amidst this chaos I had a moment of clarity. It all makes sense now." Sunil continued.

"No. You're not an animal. You're a monster. Don't expect my obedience like the rest of your dogs. I'd rather die." Chris said, strongly.

"I don't like disobedience, Chris. Not from a sheep like you. Your purpose is to obey and it once was to consume whatever you were ordered to by the faceless fucking puppet masters! Why should listening to me be any different?!" Sunil yelled.

"Because I had my own moment of clarity and I'd rather have once listened to faceless puppet masters without knowing than willingly listen to you." Chris replied.

"I will take everything you love, degrade it and crumble it to dust."

"What do you have of mine?"

"A very beautiful thing. A certain Eliza."

Chris' face fell.

"That's right. And I'll force her to do whatever me and my men want. And it's been a long time since those boys have had a chance to get near any women. Or at least, ones as pretty as her. They'll want to do some really fucked up shit to her. And I'll make you watch." Sunil threatened.

"You have four days to comply. Four days until I unleash hell upon this dying city" Sunil stated, as he grabbed him by the arm and hauled him across the carpet, seeming to exert no effort.

Chris was left reeling by the man's words, but didn't lift a finger as Sunil dragged him towards the window.

"Look out there before you tell me your answer." Sunil said softly as Chris scrambled off the floor. "Look out at the beginning of my kingdom of anarchy."

And he stared out, the king at his side, stared out to the smoke rising above the city beyond, the crackle of distant gunfire and the moans of the undead.

But then he saw the street below, a wide avenue lined by looted shops and high end businesses, and felt his hair stand on end in fear, as countless men and women in ragged clothing and armour filled the street, all hefting all manner of weaponry, and raised their heads towards where he stood and their fists to the sky and shouted as one.

"Long live the king!"

Four days.

"Long live the king"

Four days until I unleash hell upon this dying city.

"Long live the king!"


	7. Chapter 7- The Silent City

The atmosphere in the Tower of London the day after the raid on the convoy was tense to say the least and, as Mark walked across the main yard he felt the change in the atmosphere. The civilians that huddled around the rows of green military tents and stacks of supplies around him were all alert and wary, despite the visible forms of armed soldiers on the mediaeval walls above and the snipers positioned on the roof of the White Tower.

"I don't get it…" he muttered to Jacob as he fell into step beside him from talking to one of the refugees. "We were so bloody close and those bandits or king's men or whatever you want to call them, just came out of nowhere! Now half the groups gone to God knows where and we're just sat here on our arses!"

As he said the last part of his rant a few heads looked in their direction and Jacob put a hand on his arm in an attempt to calm him down.

"Look." He said, softly but firmly. "We can get them back. The base commander, Major Sykes, has already been sending out patrols with dogs to pick up the trail those raiders left. They can find them, don't worry. Adam, I mean, Sergeant Ratcliffe, has been out all day in one of the helicopters with the rest of his squad. By the time those thugs have crawled back to wherever they're hiding we can take the whole gang down at once!"

Mark nodded as they began to climb the steep stone stairs onto the wall, the abandoned form of London revealed before them in the grey morning light as the distant forms of low flying helicopters soared over the empty remains of Canary Wharf, which Jacob had told him that morning was another military strongpoint.

"Those weren't just any ordinary thugs though…" he said simply. "They were king's men."

"So?" Jacob said with a smirk. "He can't be that powerful. It's barely been a week since that city out there was normal and you really think a whole bandit army can just spring up out of nowhere?"

"I know what I saw. They were organised, Jacob. They knew the convoy was coming and they took out all those trained soldiers as easily as the military take out walkers. I'm telling you. This isn't over." He added and stared out at the city beyond with a grim frown crossing his face.

Jacob sighed, sensing he wasn't going to give this up. Standing by him at the battlements, nodding at the group of soldiers clustered by a stack of ammunition crates further up the wall, he shook his head.

"Look. You just need to find something to keep you occupied until we get the others back. I hear the major is looking for scavengers to accompany the patrols, try and get as many supplies as we can before the walkers move in properly."

Mark shrugged.

"Maybe. The way I see it, I just want to get everyone back and to the safe zone as soon as I can."

"Standing around here isn't going to help anyone." Jacob said with a playful smile, at odds with what Mark had always seen as a very serious and down to earth personality.

As he said this a walker stumbled into view behind the burnt out remains of the armoured car that the bandits had destroyed last night. Already the patrol down in the street were levelling their guns but Mark only watched until he felt a cold weight pressed into his hands, and saw Jacob passing him his rifle.

"Trust me." he said with a grin. "You need the practice."

Mark smiled and held the heavy gun to his shoulder, flicking off the safety as he centred the scope on the walker's blood soaked head.

"Take a deep breath." Jacob said from next to him and, taking his advice, he let off a single shot, the thump of the suppressor causing the walker's head to turn moments before the bullet impacted in the centre of its forehead and it slumped to the concrete. Hearing a few shouts of congratulations from the patrol in the streets Mark reddened slightly and handed the weapon back to Jacob.

"Lucky shot." he said with a laugh and Mark frowned in mock disapproval.

"Seriously!" he replied with a raised eyebrow. "I've been getting tons of good headshots since this thing started. All walkers of course." He added hastily. "Or crazy bandits… But my point still stands. I mean, there was one time where me and Chris…"

His face paled at that point and the smile died. Jacob sighed inwardly. Ever since the bandits had taken Chris and the others, he had sensed that Mark was blocking out a lot of the memories from the start of the outbreak, and of course the fact that, as far as they knew, Chris and the others could be dead. They all needed something to keep their minds off that fact. Not just Mark, but Lexi and Aafia as well, who had, as far as he can tell, been coping with it in the same way as Mark had.

"Come on." Jacob said finally, shouldering his rifle. "Let's go sign me and you up for some scavenging…"

An hour later and Mark and Jacob were stood in an empty street about half a mile out from the Tower, alongside a motley group of soldiers, police and civilians with varying degrees of scavenged weaponry. Hefting his crossbow and checking that the weapon was in working order, Mark envied Jacob and the other police and soldiers, all decked out in riot gear; whereas he had nothing but a shirt, jeans and the coat he had scavenged from the petrol station a few days ago to keep the walkers off him. He noticed a few of the civilians had made crude armour for themselves, ranging from scattered bits of martial arts and American football kits all the way to one middle aged man calling himself 'the Hustler' using rolled up Nuts and Playboy magazines taped to his arms and legs to keep off walker bites, to who he was currently talking to as the man gave a few practice swings with his cricket bat.

"You may laugh…" the Hustler wheezed with a gormless grin plastered across his wrinkled face while he watched the line of police and soldiers up ahead. "But this getup got me all the way from Portsmouth alive…"

"Any better than Southampton?" Mark asked, checking the cleaver at his belt out of habit.

The Hustler shrugged.

"They were trying the whole giant wall idea that the boys here managed, but I guess having nothing but navy reservists and a few police with rifles to protect your builders compared to the army they had here makes a lot of difference…"

As he said this Mark noticed a flash of pain cross the man's face, as if he was holding something back.

"Southampton was hell too." He said simply, and the older man turned to him.

"I lost my whole family when the walls fell." He stated in a low tone, so quiet Mark barely heard it, and Jacob standing next to him kept his gaze at the empty buildings beyond, oblivious.

"Walkers, dead ahead." Snapped the sergeant up front, and instantly all twenty men and women in the party readied their weapons, a few dropping to their knees or attaching suppressors to their sidearms.

Only a few seconds after Mark had readied and aimed his crossbow the first walker came stumbling from a side street, naked and with half their chest missing. Instantly he went down, the thud of a suppressed rifle the only way of marking its demise as the walker crumpled like a ragdoll. But then there was another, and another, streaming out at a half stumble, half stagger, arms outstretched at the scavenging party before them.

"Take them down!" came the half whispered order, and soon a pile of newly dead walkers was strewn around the abandoned vehicles and torn up newspapers.

As Mark shoved another bolt into his crossbow, silently wishing he could make more bolts so he didn't have to worry about running dry, and Jacob slammed another magazine into his rifle, the Hustler shouted over at him over the thud of suppressed weapons and crack of walker brains getting smashed in with melee weapons.

"Why are there so many?! This area was evacuated days ago. The only people who have been here are…"

Then his head exploded out in blast of blood, and the soft puff of a suppressed weapon echoed across the street. Mark's head whipped around to see a figure, clad in crimson painted body armour, on a rooftop above.

"Sniper!" he roared and fired, the bolt taking the figure in the neck and they fell back and out of sight.

"Shit man we need to…" Jacob said, and then fell back to the tarmac.

"Fuck!" Mark cursed, dropping to a crouch and drawing his pistol, dumping his crossbow and moving to cover his friend's body.

"Get up man." Jacob spluttered and got up, putting a hand to his helmet. "Bastard only grazed the side. If it had been you, you would be dead…"

Without any further talk he grabbed his rifle and began firing above them as more crimson clad figures appeared, the rest of the column now seeking cover and firing above them, while the few soldiers left at the front continued to keep the ravening undead at bay.

As Jacob and Mark slid behind a burnt out bus stop, Mark noticed a burly figure appearing on the roof of a trashed Marks and Spencer's.

"Machine gun!" shouted one of the nearby police officers, before the first burst of fire from it took the top of his head off.

"Suppressing fire!" came the calm order from one of the soldiers, firing a quick burst at a gang of men with AKs on the Marks and Spencer's roof alongside the machine gunner, the huge man barely noticing the bullets whizzing past as he directed a hail of bullets upon the huddled men and women below him.

"Surprised he's not laughing about all this…" Mark said with a shrug before he ducked down from another burst from the rooftops, and then fired a quick shot upwards.

"Look I've got this!" declared the group sergeant as he slid into cover next to them, radio in one hand and pistol in the other. "I've got Sergeant Ratcliffe's flyboys on the line. I doubt these little shits can stand up to a helicopter!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth, a bullet slammed into his side and he fell to the ground, howling in pain as blood spurted out over his dark green uniform. Instantly Jacob scooped up the radio, which had fallen to the blood-stained tarmac, and snapped at Mark.

"Keep pressure on the wound! We're not losing anyone else today!"

Mark quickly placed his hands over the wound, shouting for the squad medic to get over while Jacob was speaking into the radio with one hand while firing shots from his pistol with the other. The medic, a wiry woman with close cropped hair underneath her helmet, scuttled over and began desperately attending to the sergeant's wounds as Jacob threw his rifle to Mark.

"Remember your training!" he said with a slight grin before he began relaying coordinates to the incoming air support.

Mark set his eyes to the scope and fired a quick blast of single shots at the figures on the rooftops. Although the accurate fire from the soldiers and police in the group was cutting many of them to pieces, more and more kept appearing to fill the gaps until, with a dull whir, the air support arrived.

The Lynx helicopter swooped in low, the door gunners opening up upon the rooftop snipers, the cabin doors open to allow the squad of soldiers aboard pouring fire down upon the attackers. As the ambushers retreated in disarray and the helicopter hovered overhead, the scattered column began to reform, the last of the walkers now lying dead in the street as the remaining soldiers moved to secure the area. Noticing that the wounded sergeant seemed in better shape than before, Mark turned to Jacob.

"We've won!" the policeman declared with a grin, punching the air, but Mark only shook his head as he saw the corpse of one of the ambushers, lying in a pool of blood from where they had fallen from the roof.

"This isn't over." He said softly as he saw the man's armour, pieced together from military and police gear, spray painted a deep crimson and with a single black S on the chest. "These were king's men. If they can get this close to one of the most secure bases in London, how can we defeat them?"


End file.
